She swallowed the guilt. Everything was different now. The person she’d thought was her biggest enemy was now her family, and Cynna owed Isadora and her surrogate sisters so much.
Forcing herself to go on, she said, “I did. But I went to him with a lie. Not about my reason for being there, but about who I was.”
“I don’t understand.” Callia moved up on Casey’s right. “Who did you tell him you were?”
“I told him I was her.”
“Her who?” Casey asked.
“His mono mia.”
When all three sisters—Casey, Callia, and Isadora—only stared at her in shock, Cynna sighed and added, “His mate. The female he’s loved and lost too many times to count. The one he bound his soul to so he could always find her in any lifetime. The one he now believes is Talisa. And if it’s true, if Talisa really is her, then nothing any of us do is going to matter. He’ll never let her go.”
Chapter Seven
Talisa blinked and squinted into the bright light.
Lifting a hand to block the glare, she shifted beneath the covers and pushed herself back into the pillows. She had no idea what time it was, but judging by the sunshine blazing through her windows, it had to be midday.
When was the last time she’d slept ‘til noon?
Groggy, she glanced down only to realize her nightgown was completely unbuttoned to her belly. She quickly reached for the two halves and pulled the gown closed, then remembered unbuttoning it late last night in the dark.
When the marking on her hip had grown so hot it had felt as if her skin was about to burn off. When she’d dreamt of Zagreus naked and submerged in some kind of pool, surrounded by flickering candles as he stroked himself.
Her cheeks warmed, and arousal stirred low and hot inside her all over again. She’d dreamt of him before but never like that. Usually, when he entered her dreams, the images centered on warfare and using her warrior skills to defeat evil. This dream had been different, though. This dream had been intimate. Hot. So real something inside ached to experience it all again.
One hand drifted from the buttons at her chest and slid down her bare abs, moving slowly toward that aching, wet place between her legs that needed release. As her eyes drifted closed, she pictured Zagreus touching himself the same way, remembering his muscular chest glistening with water and reflecting the candlelight, the amulet on the long chain lying against his tanned skin. Remembered how he’d wrapped his long fingers around his impressive shaft and groaned.
Need singed every nerve ending. She arched her back and pushed her hand lower, desperate for that first touch. Just as her fingers drifted into her curls, a heavy clank echoed through the room.
She jerked upright and quickly yanked the covers up to her chest, hiding her nakedness. The old wood door pushed inward, and the male she’d just been fantasizing about stepped into her room followed by a nymph Talisa hadn’t seen yesterday.
Heat rushed to Talisa’s cheeks. She swallowed hard. The nymph crossed the floor and set the bundle in her arms on the foot of Talisa’s bed.
Talisa barely cared about the female. Her attention was fixed solidly on Zagreus. On the way the dark, long-sleeved Henley molded to his broad chest and arms. To the trim cut of his hips, to the powerful muscles in his thighs, and the bulge in the front of his pants that made all kinds of wicked thoughts echo in her mind.
The nymph stepped to the side of Talisa’s bed. Grasping the covers tighter at her chest, Talisa tensed, unsure what was happening. Then the nymph reached out and swept the hair away from Talisa’s face.
Talisa jerked back from the female’s touch, but before she could ask what the hell the nymph thought she was doing, Zagreus cleared his throat.
Talisa’s attention skipped back to him, and the second her gaze landed on his, memories of her dream rushed back through her mind. Only this time she heard his voice, saying, “Touch yourself, mono mia…”
Heat gathered in her hip once more and ricocheted all through her body, as if the immortal has some kind of magickal control of her libido.
Which he didn’t, dammit…
“This is Nysa,” Zagreus said, resting his hands on his lean hips and nodding toward the nymph pressing her fingers all around Talisa’s temple and into her hairline. “The healer who took care of you last night after you hit your head.”
After she hit her head…
Talisa’s mind spun as she fought the arousal that wanted to overtake her. He was the enemy, dammit. Not some sex god sent to fulfill all her twisted fantasies.
Her memories were spotty, but they quickly locked on being tossed in this room with that other nymph—Ana. She remembered grabbing a candlestick to use as a weapon. Remembered swinging out. Remembered the nymph using some kind of magick that had dropped Talisa to her knees and completely knocked her out.
“The wound is healed,” Nysa said at her side, smoothing Talisa’s hair back into place. “No lasting damage.”
Zagreus muttered, “Good,” then his dark gaze met Talisa’s once more. “Nysa will help you change into something more appropriate. Since we understand each other better now, I’ve decided to let you have free rein of the castle this afternoon. You may go wherever you like, but you’re to remain inside. If you try to leave the castle walls, my sentries will toss you in the dungeon. And trust me, mono mia, the dungeon is not a place you want to visit. This room is a palace compared to that.”
Since they understood each other better?
Talisa had no idea what he meant. Last night when she’d awoken to find him watching her, he’d made it clear she couldn’t be trusted. Now he was letting her roam the castle, unaccompanied?
Nothing had changed between them. Nothing except her having some weird sex dream that he knew nothing about.
She was just about to ask what the hell was really going on when her gaze lifted back to his.
Words faltered on her tongue when she caught sight of the look in his eyes. Not the combative, domineering look she’d seen yesterday, but heat.
The same sizzling heat she’d felt last night and again just moments ago when she’d remembered her dream. A familiar, explosive heat that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. And what she’d done here in the dark of her room.
Electricity arced between them. An electricity that threatened to scorch every nerve ending.
As Nysa moved into the bathroom and came back with a hairbrush, Talisa’s mouth went dry. She didn’t know what to say. Wasn’t sure what was happening to her or why she was suddenly reacting to Zagreus this way.
Suddenly? You were ready to jump his bones in that club before you even know who he was.
She pushed that thought aside as Zagreus continued to watch her with those smoldering eyes. Told herself it didn’t matter. He’d used some kind of magick on her then. He was using the same magick on her now. He had to be.
Nysa began brushing her hair. Desperate for some snarky comment that would prove she was a seasoned warrior, not some pathetic nymphomaniac, Talisa glanced down at the blanket covering her legs, only all her clever instincts seemed to be have completely dried up.
What in Hades had happened to her brain?
A knock sounded at the door. She lifted her head and watched as Zagreus moved that way and jerked it open.
Two males stood on the other side. Two males she didn’t recognize and who looked to be wearing some kind of leather armor.
They spoke in low voices, and she strained to hear their words, but she could only make out bits and pieces of their conversation.
“…satyrs…”
“…western border.”
“…armed and ready…”
Talisa tensed, suddenly interested.
“Nysa,” Zagreus said, “come here.”
The nymph set the brush on the bed beside Talisa and moved toward the door.
The group spoke in hushed words, then the nymph nodded and moved back into the room. Zagreus left with the males without so much as a glanc
e Talisa’s way, the door snapping shut in his wake with a deafening clank.
The nymph returned to Talisa’s side, picked up the brush, and started combing her hair again.
Talisa bit her tongue so she wouldn’t lash out and tell the female she could handle her own grooming. If she did, she knew she wouldn’t get the answers she wanted. And right now, those answers were more important than any pride.
She pushed the scorching dream and the irritating male at the center of that dream out of her head and focused on what she should have been focusing on all night—mainly, how she was going to break free of this stupid tower.
A satyr attack might just be the perfect distraction.
Play it cool. Don’t go right for the jugular or the nymph will balk.
“I don’t remember meeting you yesterday.”
“You didn’t.” The nymph brushed the hair back from Talisa’s temple. “I wasn’t in the grand hall when you arrived.”
“You’re a healer?”
“Among other things. Everyone in Ehrendia has multiple duties.”
That didn’t tell her a whole lot. “I’ve heard of Ehrendia. I didn’t think it was real.”
“Why not?”
“Because no one’s ever found it. And because legend says Ehrendia is the home of the maenads.”
“And?”
“And they’re the followers of the god Dionysus.”
“And?” the nymph said again, this time in an amused tone.
“And nowhere in the legends did it ever say the maenads turned away from Dionysus to follow the Prince of Darkness.”
Nysa smirked and kept brushing. “You don’t think too highly of our prince.”
Zagreus? “He’s Hades’s son.”
“Hm.”
The nymph moved to brush a new section, and as silence lapped between them, Talisa realized she wasn’t getting anywhere.
She decided to try a different angle. “I also don’t remember any male maenads in the legends, either. I thought maenads were all female.”
“We are.”
Talisa glanced up at the nymph and waited.
“Zagreus didn’t explain it to you?” she asked with a lift of her brows.
Zagreus hadn’t explained shit to her. But Talisa refrained from saying so.
“The males are silens,” Nysa finally said.
“Silens,” Talisa muttered. “Really?” She’d thought them a myth, too. “They’re related to the satyrs, aren’t they?”
The nymph nodded. “A subrace of satyrs, you could say. Peaceful creatures instead of aggressive, like traditional satyrs. Their affinity is for harmony, peace, and pleasure.”
“But they don’t look like satyrs.” They looked like Argoleans. Like humans.
The nymph smirked again. “Usually. In the throes of a frenzy, however, their animalistic natures become quite evident.”
Talisa had no idea what that meant, but as the nymph continued to brush her hair, she remembered everything she’d ever learned about the god Dionysus.
Dionysus was Zeus’s son. The god of wine, fertility, ritual madness, and ecstasy. Initially, Zeus had planned to make Dionysus his heir; to turn over rule of the heavens to him when Zeus was ready to step aside. But Dionysus had turned out to be a bit of a wild card. His appetites grew greater than those of the other gods. So great, he soon began to represent everything chaotic, dangerous, and unexpected in the immortal world.
Dionysus had been forced to the fringes of society, blacklisted by Hera and the other Olympians. There, Zeus built Ehrendia for Dionysus. And there, Dionysus taught his followers, the maenads, how to let go of societal norms and release their inhibitions. According to the stories, every time they did, every time they worshipped him in a state of ecstatic frenzy brought on by dancing, intoxication, and even orgies, his powers grew. Grew so great, some said he would become stronger than Zeus on his own without any help from the King of the Gods.
Until he crossed Hera again, and Zeus’s vengeful wife banished him to the edge of the cosmos, blocking him from ever returning to the human realm and Olympus.
Talisa’s pulse picked up speed. Her skin grew hot. Images of that dream—had it been a dream?—of Zagreus and the things she’d watched him do filled her mind all over again.
Zagreus was Hades’s son. The Prince of Darkness. A minor god who enjoyed torture and pain, not pleasure and ecstasy.
So what in the name of the Fates was Zagreus doing with a group of maenads and their lovers? And why the hell couldn’t Talisa stop thinking about him naked and wet in that bath?
“Wait a minute.” Talisa’s thoughts came to a whirring stop as she looked up at the nymph. “You don’t think…? I mean, your people don’t actually believe Zagreus is Dionysus, do you?”
The nymph smiled down at her then went back to combing the last of the tangles from Talisa’s hair. “Do you know how Zagreus came to be here?”
“No.” Skata, they really did think Zagreus was Dionysus back from his banishment. The Prince of Darkness had completely fooled these simple creatures.
“We lived in peace for thousands of years. Few knew our valley existed. The mountains provided coverage from our natural enemies. Then a few years ago, one of our residents was out on a supply run. She was attacked by a group of satyrs on the border of our lands. She managed to escape, but her injuries were fatal. She died shortly thereafter. From that point on, we were inundated with attacks. The satyrs are ruthless. When they set their sights on someone or something, they don’t stop until they have what they want.”
Talisa knew that. The history books in Argolea all described in great detail the satyrs’ savagery when Zagreus had joined forces with his father Hades and attacked the capitol city of Tiyrns just before Talisa’s birth. “What happened?”
“We were very nearly eradicated. Then, out of nowhere, Zagreus arrived. He’d been searching for someone. When he saw what was happening to the people of Ehrendia, he stepped in to help us. He forced the satyrs from our lands and used his powers to camouflage our borders. He saved us from annihilation. Since then, the satyrs haven’t been able to find us. They pop up on our borders now and then, but they can’t get through our defenses.”
That didn’t sound like the Zagreus Talisa knew. Not the Zagreus who’d commanded his own army of satyrs and attacked her people. Definitely not the Zagreus who’d built an underground lair in the Yucatan best known for its twisted methods of torture and pain.
“Where were the silens during all this?” Talisa asked.
“Hiding. Unqualified to fight the brutal satyrs.” Nysa began pulling the hair back from Talisa’s face and twisting it in some kind of half-up, half-down style. “Zagreus has been training them since. He taught them how to defend themselves and the perimeter of our lands. The two you saw at the door a few minutes ago were sentries.”
That sounded even less like the Zagreus Talisa knew. “And what does he expect in return?”
He had to expect something. The Prince of Darkness never did anything unless it was to his great benefit.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
The door pushed open before Nysa could answer, and Ana, the nymph who’d cold-cocked Talisa last night, stepped into the room holding a tray of food.
Talisa tensed.
Ana barely spared her a glance as she crossed the room and set the tray on the table near the chair by the fireplace. “Nysa, Helia requested your help downstairs.”
Nysa dropped her hands from Talisa’s hair and stepped back from the bed. “You’re finished. I left a gown for you in the washroom.”
Nysa set the brush on a low table against the wall, then with one glance at Ana, left the tower.
Talisa wasn’t thrilled with the interruption. She wanted more information from Nysa. But as the door closed after her and silence stretched across the space, Talisa’s focus shifted to Ana coming toward her, her muscles ready if the female was here to finish what she’d started yesterday.
; Instead of stopping at Talisa’s side, Ana disappeared into the marble bath. Seconds later, the blonde returned with an armful of light blue fabric.
“I’ll help you dress,” Ana said, careful to avoid eye contact.
Talisa wasn’t sure what had happened between last night and today. Had Zagreus punished the nymph for attacking her? Given the nymphs some kind of order regarding her? The nymphs were suddenly waiting on her like a guest, not treating her as a prisoner as they’d done yesterday.
Talisa didn’t give a rip what Zagreus had ordered or why. She wasn’t a gown kind of girl. And she was already antagonized.
“I’d rather have the clothing I was wearing yesterday.”
“The prince left orders you’re to wear this or nothing. The choice is yours.”
The nymph still wouldn’t look at her, and Talisa’s temper kicked up as the seconds stretched between them.
She was not at all happy with the prince or what he had planned, but she was smart enough to know she was at the mercy of those around her. Before Zagreus had left, he’d said she could have free rein of the castle. If she continued to piss off the nymph at her side, the female might leave her locked in this room out of spite. Talisa couldn’t let that happen. With her powers bound, exploring and finding a way to escape was the only chance she now had.
It took every bit of willpower Talisa had to say, “Fine,” instead of kiss my ass. As the nymph reached for the covers and drew them back, Talisa quickly tugged her gown closed and pushed from the bed.
“Turn,” the nymph instructed, dropping the armful of fabric on the mattress.
Talisa bit her tongue and faced the windows.
The nymph grasped the nightgown at her shoulders and tugged. The flimsy white fabric pooled at her feet. Lifting the light blue gown over her head, the nymph said, “Arms up.”
The sleek fabric slid down Talisa’s arms and sides. It was some kind of soft shell covered in layers of matching chiffon that draped her curves like a Grecian goddess. The sleeves were long and bell-shaped, falling past her fingertips. The wide ballet collar left her shoulders bare then dropped to a heart-shaped neckline that hit low to showcase her cleavage. The dress gathered high at her waist with a wide, gold-braided belt then fell to her bare feet in waves that were silky smooth against her skin. As the nymph zipped the back, Talisa realized more chiffon hung off each shoulder, draping behind her like a cape.
Wicked Page 10
